


living ghosts

by dreamsdark



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: (clenches fist) The Potential, Gen, Post-Time Skip, still waiting for the A support
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:34:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21624628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamsdark/pseuds/dreamsdark
Summary: There was always some distance between him and Dimitri that Sylvain could never bridge, but since when had it become an uncrossable chasm?
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Sylvain Jose Gautier, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 11
Kudos: 132





	living ghosts

It isn’t often Sylvain is left alone with Dimitri. Usually Felix hovers around him, his usual sharp words passing through Dimitri like he’s become one of the ghosts he’s cloaked himself with. (Only because he’d heard Ingrid dragging Felix from there back to his room and forcing him to bed, lecturing him about taking care of himself—and after he’d finally fallen to exhaustion, she’d undoubtedly taken to the training grounds herself and stayed there well past midnight. Sylvain suspected the current hour was closer to sunrise than sunset.)

He says as much as he sits next to him, setting a plate of food down. “I’m sure your room is more comfortable than rubble.” 

Dimitri turns in his direction, then drops his gaze to the plate. A good start—it’s a reaction to his presence, which is more than the last time.

A start's only a start, though. “You do remember what food is, right?” A few moments pass. “Take some like this, and...” 

Dimitri grabs the fork Sylvain holds, and starts eating at a surprisingly measured pace. “If you just wanted me to feed you, then...” The joke dies in his throat. “I really don’t know what to say, man. You—” He shakes his head, making a meaningless hand gesture. “Can I even do anything?” 

Nothing is said, but Sylvain wants to cower away from Dimitri's piercing gaze. Like it's looking through him, at someone Sylvain hasn't met and never will. “Don’t get in my way.” The fork bends in his fist.

Sylvain swallows. “Why don’t you...take a break for a bit? We’ve barely had any time to catch up.” Even now, it’s far too easy to keep his tone light. What did that say about him? Nothing he cared to think about.

“As long as that woman is alive, I won’t rest. I cannot.” The usual fury in his tone is completely gone, replaced with some dead determination, and Sylvain isn’t sure which is worse. “I _won’t_ falter, why won’t you understand?”

“Hey, hey, that’s enough.” Sylvain pats his shoulder in what he hopes is a reassuring way. He tries to pry Dimitri’s fingers away from the mangled silverware, which is entirely useless against his strength. (An unwanted image of Dimitri crushing his fingers hits him, which he resolutely ignores.)

“You.” Dimitri finally looks _at_ him. 

“It’s me.” 

The fork clatters to the ground, and a gloved hand reaches out to him. Sylvain holds his breath, expecting—he’s not even sure, but Dimitri drops it before it nears his face. His arm instead hangs by his side, limp, and he looks to the ground.

There’s moss growing by the cracks near his feet. “Your Highness?” 

“Why are you here?”

 _Why?_ Why did Dimitri ask him such impossible questions? “I mean, this is some pretty good cheese.” 

For once, Dimitri‘s face wears something other than a mix of anger and anguish; blatant confusion. “What, you don’t like cheese anymore? I remember when you visited Gautier that was always the first thing you ran for.” Even Sylvain isn’t sure what he’s saying now, but if he keeps talking, he’ll hopefully drown out the other voices vying for their dear prince’s attention. “Honestly! It’s like you visited for the cheese more than me.”

“I don’t...” Unfortunately Dimitri doesn’t get flustered like he once would have. “I don’t care what I eat, as long as it sustains me through the next battle. A monster needs nothing else.”

 _Time to ignore most of that._ “So it’s still your favorite!”

This time, Dimitri ignores him. Sylvain forces himself not to visibly wilt, racking his brain for something, anything to say. Wasn’t he good at this?

( _No. You never were._ )

 _Something, anything!_ How could he be so good at bullshit whenever he wanted to ruin something, but the _one time_ —

“Syl...vain?” Dimitri says his name quietly, like he’s not sure how to anymore. To be fair, five years of not talking to another person _would_ do that to a guy.

Sylvain waits for him to continue, but he‘s quiet, staring at a space slightly to his side. No, he knows that expression. “What, did you miss me?” he says lightly, throwing him a wink for good measure. Maybe he’d shown something on his face—today was not his day.

“I missed everyone.” Trembling. “I will not forget what has to be done, but—but—“ His breath catches, seeming physically painful. “I wanted to be with everyone. I was never alone, but if I was lonely—No, I cannot rest until the dead can.” 

And Sylvain fucked up. Again. _What else is new?_ More than anything, Sylvain wants to run out of this cursed cathedral, but his mouth is too good at not listening to him at the worst moments. “At least I—we’re here now.” What a pathetic plea.

“...”

Silence never sat well with him. But what is he supposed to do, apologize? There’s a million and one things he’d failed him on; an apology would do nothing now. 

“After five years of nothing but the damned’s wailings...what is to say you are truly here?”

“You think we’re dead?” Now how’s he supposed to convince him otherwise?

“I don’t know.” 

Sylvain’s not sure that’s any better than a yes. “Will you finally listen to me, then?” He doesn’t expect an answer, and he doesn’t get one. “ _Dimitri_.” Dimitri was the one who always believed in him, foolishly, irrationally, blindly, even after Ingrid and Felix had realized his true nature bleeding through the cracks of his smile. Sylvain might be an awful skirt-chaser, but he's still a loyal friend in the end! It was a far kinder introduction than he deserved.

Has Dimitri finally realized how completely Sylvain had failed him, or is he truly too sincere to believe that he could? Even now, he worried about Sylvain, while he just—

“Do you remember that story I told you about the moon?” The pointlessness of his words grate at his throat, but what else can he do?

When it came to Dimitri, was a point in trying to help him at all, if it just amounted to this? Knowing Sylvain, he was making it worse—a specialty of his.

Dimitri stares at him silently. Sylvain swallows yet another lump in his throat. “See, if you look, you can kind of make out shapes, right?” Not that he can now, with his vision blurring, and maybe Dimitri couldn’t with his eye injury, but it was the thought that counted. Probably.

“They say the moon used to be perfectly white, until some ancient sky warrior fell in love with it. Don’t really get that part, ‘cause even though the moon’s pretty and all, it’s not _that_ type of pretty, y’know? Not that I’d judge.” Silence. Sylvain’s feels lightheaded, remembering a faint memory of Dimitri interjecting _It’s a fairytale, that’s not the point, Sylvain!_ So honest and impossibly earnest.

He blinks, hard. “Anyway...the warrior showered it with endless gifts. But the moon’s skin was so delicate, that every gift the warrior gave it ruined the place it touched. You think the moon is actually made of skin? Creepy.” An exaggerated shudder. “Once the warrior finally ran out of gifts to give, the moon looked like what it does now. But with all its blemishes, the warrior decried it as hideous, and...that’s that. All that wasted time for nothing.”

“The moon’s just the moon, though, and it didn’t care. I guess the whole story was kind of pointless, huh.” Was it Miklan who told him this? Either way, Sylvain‘s pretty sure he’s not remembering it all correctly. 

“...Are you even listening?” Finally, he gathers the courage to look to his side, where Dimitri is—

Staring up at the sky, where the moon shines bright through the broken ceiling of the cathedral.

_Ah._

Quietly, Sylvain moves closer to Dimitri, looking up as well. Stars dot the night sky, and the moon, nearly full, is bright. It hurts to look at. “...I think the moon’s still pretty—even if it’s not that kind of pretty.”

Dimitri nods, and Sylvain makes a vow.

**Author's Note:**

> I said I would write something with more direction and then proceeded to write something even more nonsensical. hm
> 
> i got very invested in dimitri and sylvain somehow...? even i don't know how this happened. i hope there's more content of them
> 
> my twitter ([@endsream](https://twitter.com/endsream)


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